From somewhere in Vermont….

…comes this poem by Wendy. 

Champlain, Champlain,

Glorious Champlain.

Soft as the breeze, wild as the rain.

I love you…Champlain.

I should be making battlements but….

…I am sitting here reading blogs and eating my breakfast (the kids ate with Papa while I went running….oh, I love when he is on vacation).  Today is Wendy’s party.  It is a Medieval Castle Party complete with castle cake with battlements and drawbridge and a moat, jousting, a knight’s quest, and crown decorating.  It should be fun as long as it doesn’t rain—I don’t know how to host jousting in my house.  Frankly, Wendy has so many friends that we had to narrow it down to two groups:  neighborhood and school friends.  Apologies to those whose kids we left out.  I also don’t know how to handle jousting gracefully with a 40-kid party.

My birthday is on Friday.  Wendy and Papa bought presents on Saturday during their daddy daughter date.  Wendy promptly wrapped them in silkies and keeps leaving them on my pillow.  Papa won’t let me open them, much to her dismay.  I’m turning 36.  I wonder when that happened.

We are leaving at week’s end for our grand summer adventure which includes stops in suburban Detroit, their grandiose thrift stores (though maybe they won’t be so hot this year with all those car execs losing all that money), a lakeshore somewhere in Vermont, hopefully a few Green Mountaintops,  China Town and the subway–NYC and other places that we used to haunt in the days when all this was just a dream, Granny and Grampy’s house and everywhere in between.  

Now I must be off to fashion a lance and add the drawbridge (thank you, Laura, for the recipe…worked just great….all four batches…sigh…).

Perspective

My life has become really busy.  This makes me laugh, reading what I just wrote, because Gosh, my life is Always busy.  It is full of, well, LIFE.  The highs and the lows, the easy moments of sitting in the shade and listening to voices of children that I love, seeing the laundry blowing on the line in my peripheral vision, savoring a few words from a good book…..and the challenging moments when those children’s voices are all talking at once and they all want my attention and one is fussing and the other is whining and the other is just singing away at the top of his lungs his newest favorite song and I feel like my head is about to explode and sometimes it does. 

It’s been getting to me lately.  I don’t know why all of a sudden “it” is winning (”it” being the head exploding part).  But I won’t let it win because this LIFE, this crazy, noisy, lovely, beautiful life that is mine is so worth it.  And it helps to read posts like this one every now and again to remind myself to just relax.  To just let myself keep growing.  To just sit back and enjoy my children and not worry about if I’m doing right by them so much as just getting in there and doing LIFE with them.  They are going to become the people that they choose.  And their environment is important.  Critical.  But a mom too worried about choosing-the-right-books-fitting-in-the-right-classes-while-still-providing-ample-time-to-be-outside-and-getting-their-feet-muddy-and-running-through-the-sprinkler-and-discovering-the-beauty-of-the-world-while-having-enough-social-opportunities-but-not-too-many-that-family-is-overshadowed-and-blah-blah-blah that my brain is on hyper-drive about…..that kind of mom just isn’t that much fun.    And above all I want my kids to think of me now and when they are grown as adamantly loving my job as their mom.   I want them to know deeply that I CHERISH it.  Which means I have to act like it.

So go read that post I mentioned up there and become just a bit more present today….and tomorrow….and…..

Overheard

I have so many back-posts to write.  I went to California.  The Farmer’s Market started up.  We had a great time with good friends today for Memorial Day.  I had a strawberry glut and made yummy jam.  I’m doing kefir experiments.  Our homeschool year is wrapping up and I’m beginning to plan for next Fall.  There are things coming up in my garden.  I’m really enjoying hanging out my wash everyday.  Yeah, lots of posts.   But right now I really just need to go to bed.  But not before I write this down so that I don’t forget more silly words from around here.

1.

During a dinner in which I served steamed snow broccoli stems (we use the leaves in salad).  A bit of butter and salt.  Yummy, in my opinion.  To get the full sense of this snippet you must hear both children speak in dreamy voices.

Wendy:  “Mama, (sigh), that was soooooooo delicious!”

John: (same voice) “Mama, (slight pause), that was sooooo disgusting!”

2.

Keep in mind that my parents live in Vermont (you can read this as heavenly-green-place-that-I-love …or not….it’s not related to the snippet).   My mom is Nana.  My dad is Tools.  Funny name, maybe….unless you know him.

Michael and I were in the car alone doing errands. 

Michael:  Mama, where crocodiles?

Me:  In Florida…..and Africa.

Michael:  Mama, where’s Nana?

Me:  In Vermont.

Michael:  Where’s Tools?

Me:  In Vermont.

Michael:  No, Tools in Africa.

Me:  Oh…really?

Michael:  Yes. 

Me:  What’s he doing in Africa?

Michael:  He taking care of crocodiles!

Overheard or “May the Farce Be With You”

I am vacuuming the kids’ bedrooms.  After helping me clear the floor they are now playing Star Wars with the light sabers the boys got as party favors at yesterday’s Star Wars themed birthday party.  They are very cool light sabers, by the way, made of pool noodles cut in half with handles wrapped with black electrical tape.  Colorful, powerful-feeling, and almost completely harmless. 

So, keep in mind that my children have never seen Star Wars.  Well, they saw about 5 minutes of the Darth Vader vs. Luke saber fight on the catwalk while we were furniture shopping about THREE YEARS AGO….and have apparently gleaned some name information from friends….but no direct experience. 

Open Scene:

Light Sabers cracking, screaching and running….

Wendy:  “John, I’m Luke, you’re Darth and Michael in YOGA”.

Ah, yes….I’ll keep my children isolated from the force for a few years longer just to be able to giggle at keepers like that.

Namaste.

Treehouse

A treehouse, a free house,

A secret you and me house,

A high up in the leafy branches,

cozy as can be house,

A street house, a neat house,

Be sure and wipe your feet house,

Is not my kind of house at all.

Let’s go live in a treehouse!

                             -Shel Silverstein

 

Puddles, Worms and Beasts

Last week was rainy and gray and cold.  Which led to lots of reading, a few rain walks, and afternoon tea and toast.

I’m guessing I’m not the only one who gets nostalgically gloomy and sad when my kids grow out of clothes?  These boots are pinching the toes but she insisted on wearing them.

These “Duck Boots” as they’re affectionately called around here still fit, luckily….because there’s no child after him to pass them down to.  I think puddle hopping and a 2-year-old are a perfect fit. 

And here comes the gory part of the story (beware all you squeamish ones):

We came across a puddle filled (and I mean writhing!) with half-drowned worms.  And not only that but they were massing around the crack in the sidewalk.  We looked.  We discussed whether they were enjoying themselves trying to get into the puddle or frantically en-mass trying to get out.  We concluded it was the latter and tried in vain to scoop them out with sticks (oh, it was just really gross.  It was like a snake-pit….only worms. Gross but quite interesting).  

OK, on to more pleasant things (except you’ve probably lost your appetite by now):

The best-tea-in-the-whole-world (yes, I’ve linked to this tea elsewhere on this blog….but it’s really good) accompanied by buttered and peanut-buttered (oh, my) homemade-bread toast.

And what rainy afternoon is complete without a good book or two.  This one —a favorite at the moment–is worth the worms!

All Things Easter

Here’s our Easter Week in pictures–which includes some egg dyeing from the week before, Bunny Day, and Easter Sunday.

 

Making Kefir

My parents were health-food junkies.  They still are, really.  There are smells from my childhood that are still potently real to me now when the right memory surfaces.  Maple sugar steam, fresh-turned earth, the warm smell of tomatoes as they grow in the sunny window.   And the health-food store.  

This wasn’t a Whole Foods or Wild Oats, clean and grocery-store neat with linoleum floors and high, straight shelves and bright lights.  Oh, no.  This was a wood-floored, cluttered affair—sunbeams filtered through the haze of bulk-goods-dust, the smell of grains and honey and dirt (garden dirt, that is) and probably beeswax from the candles in the house-and-body-care corner.   It was a true co-op.  My parents worked in the store a certain amount of time every month for the privilege of shopping there. 

A few treats I remember:  Tigers’ Milk Bars, dried pineapple, chocolate covered yogurt popsicles (stawberry or vanilla)—oh, they were heavenly. I’d do quite a bit to eat one of those again….haven’t had one since I was about 7.  And Kefir.  My Dad loved Kefir. 

So, when I had the chance to inherit some true kefir grains from someone I jumped on it.  Kefir that is homemade?  Not overly-sugared and at $4 a pop? Sure they look a little repulsive and it goes against my instinct to leave milk sitting out on the counter for 24 hours, but….it was worth a try. 

Nourishing Traditions tells you how.  I’ve got to say….doesn’t taste a lot like the commercial stuff, but add some blended frozen strawberries and agave and it’s a yummy kick.  And good for your insides.  We’ll see if my Dad likes it.

A Daddy trip to the Desert

Scott took the kids adventuring a few Saturdays ago.  They had a great time!  Here they are leaving early in the morning:

And having fun all day hiking and playing in the dirt, finding petroglyphs, eating hiking snacks, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

And what did I spend my day doing?  Well, after finishing teaching around 1 I got to DO WHATEVER I WANTED.  When does that ever happen?  Lovely day, indeed.

I’m not the only one confused….

This weekend has ushered in some interesting weather.  Saturday sunny and glorious, we were outside all afternoon in shorts and t-shirts, raking the garden, playing with the hose, making mud soup, squinting in the sun.  Today….not so much.  The wind whipped up on the way to church and by the time we were home at lunch the snow was falling quite substantially. 

The natives are getting restless.

Magical Music and A Half-Birthday

Today John turned four and a half.  In our house, those are celebrated with a half birthday cake (literally, a cake cut in half….I usually freeze the other half for another time) after dinner.  Today was a crazy day and so our plans went all awash and we ended up frantically running into Macey’s at 5:30 on the way home from Cello Class to buy dinner (eek! homemade macaroni and cheese—the original request—just doesn’t get made in 10 minutes) and a cake (eek!  a store-bought yucky cake….that, I might add, the kids were sooooo gaga about.  I mean, it had pink curly frosting around the edges, and was white-white-white and had curly ribbons all over the top.  Goodness me!)  And we actually celebrated Wendy’s half birthday which apparently I forgot to celebrate in December amidst the chaos of a recent move and an attempt at our normal Advent activities.  Fear not, she reminded me of the miss today in great detail and so…..the whole store bought cake was cut in half and presented to each with the requisite “Happy Half-Birthday to you” sung, and candles and excitement.  Michael put up a bit of stink as the cakes arrived at the table (he even got to carry Wendy’s….with Papa’s help) when he realized that neither half got plopped down before his chair.  But a quick slice and deal and he was happily chowing down.  Oh, me, it was a crazy afternoon.  Did I mention that we had violin lessons and grocery shopping and cello class all they way at the top of the valley? 

Let’s just say I’m happy to be quietly sipping tea right now.  My favorite tea of all time, no less!

But amidst the franticness which just WAS TODAY there were some sweet moments, too, as there almost always are.  One of which was watching John attend his first cello class.  He got a Suzuki 1/10th cello for Christmas and started lessons within the last month.  I purposely waited to start Wendy on violin until she was 6 even though she’d been set on learning violin since the age of 2 and 1/2.  But once one is doing it, it makes more sense (to me, anyway) to start the others earlier since they’re used to sitting through lessons and practice and hum the tunes in their sleep already.  So John started….and I’ve not been absolutely sure he was ready.  For instance, we practice for only about 5 minutes a day because after that he’s just done and there’s really no point to pushing it and making him despise the time.  In lessons he perks up, though….and today!  oh, today was sweet.  A room full of cellists….the oldest probably around 7, the youngest 3.  All sitting in rapt (most of the time, anyway) attention facing their teacher and her cello which next to most of them looks enormous.  Each taking a turn playing the piece or exercise of their choice, making comments about what positive things they noticed in each other’s playing, having fun doing “knock knocks” and telling jokes.  John finally doing the thing he’s watched his big sister doing now for a year and a half.  And no sense of shyness!  When it was his turn to say his name he spoke up and said it.  When it was his turn to play he sat up straight and played Camels and sang the song in a good loud voice.  Later in the hour once he caught on he started raising his hand to make comments about his peer’s playing “She had a straight back” or “It was nice!” 

Camels, camels, camels

Walking in the Gobe, Gobe, Gobe

Looking for a Drink, Drink, Drink

All they find are Ants, Ants, Ants

Digging in the Dirt, Dirt, Dirt

Going UnderGround, Ground, Ground

Carrying Their Cellos, Cellos, Cellos. ( V…..I)

So today he arrived at 4.5 with a bang.  This boy who has always seemed delicate to me.  Sweet and energetic but small.  One who I love to bits but always feel like I don’t totally understand.  This boy who I’ve worried over for years, who seems, in the shadow of his capable, vocal big sister to always be much younger than he is…..he arrived today at a place that is just him.   A big kid in the making.  The same “John” he’s always been but not more delicate, or smaller, or younger than he is meant to be.  And I am not worried.  He is just perfect.  Happy Half Birthday, my boy.

Kookaburra to Sleep

Tonight, like many others, saw me snuggled in the crib with Michael.  He is not, shall we say, an easy sleeper.  And so, after many requests for his water, then some demands (unmet) for some juice, some dressing and undressing of his two dolls—Baby Max (aka “Mack”) and Baby Jack—some funny licking episodes (funny to him, not so much to me as my cheek kept getting slurped) he finally started to settle down once I sang a bit.  First up, our old bedtime favorite “Sweet Baby James”.  I can’t really categorize it as me singing as both boys have started chiming in, which I don’t think is helping them fall asleep, exactly, but it is so charming to lie in the dark room and here these small boy voices chime in “cowboy….lives….range…..horse…..cattle….compan-ons…..”.  Then it was on to another favorite “Sleep, Baby, Sleep” and then on to Michael’s newest favorite, revived into memory this morning while we were looking at his favorite animal book:  “Kookaburra”.  And since it worked, I sung this song over and over, maybe 30 times just now as his little body started to calm down and his accompanying singing became more and more sporadic and his “do again!” request after each song became less and less immediate, his eyes starting to droop even as he was still attempting to match his own “Kook-beara” to mine…..30 times was worth it.  There is beauty in their energy, and sweetness in their ever-present voices, and also absolute joy when they finally drop off to sleep.  Ahhh…goodnight.

Happy Season

In the dull and dreary days that were February we spent a lot of time being grumpy, unfortunately.  But also a lot of fun was had doing inside-cold-day sorts of things.  A friend from younger days was a fiendish chess player and sent my kids a chess set recently.  We haven’t totally mastered the skills yet but they’re all in love with the pieces and are coming to a small understanding of the game in their own ways:

I called home one night at dinner while I was away teaching (yes, I’ll feel so much more grounded once this stint of work is over) and Scott said “Yeah, I’m making dinner….the kids are playing chess….”.  That so fulfilled one of the many images I’ve had in the past of what I want my kids’ childhood to be like (minus the Mama away at work part).  

 And now that the doldrums seem to be in the past (cross fingers) we are feeling a bit let out of the box.  I love this photo of one of our first playground visits since the Fall.  

Here’s to many sunny, loam-smelling days ahead for gardening, playgrounds, hikes, mud pies, clotheslines, slippy slides, popsicles, fresh-picked peas, barefeet, flowers blooming, bike riding, kite flying, dirty feet getting bliss.

Waking Up

Have you been hibernating, too?  I feel like I’m coming out of a stupor called WINTER.  But today the kids wore shorts!  And t-shirts!  Outside!  Without anything over them!  And barefeet!  And last week our favorite tortoise came out of hibernation….just in time to be fawned over by the three children, force-fed lettuce, and spend a lot of time veeeerrrrryyyyy sssssllllooooowwwwllllyyyyy ambling around the new yard. 

I know it’s not quite spring yet….but it’s close enough to count, yes?

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!  Even though I’m a humbug and didn’t wear green and my poor boys didn’t wear green because Mama’s just not that into this holiday, and Wendy doesn’t own any green so had to suffice with beading a green necklace to wear today because she was not about to let herself be pinched and I finally succumbed to the pressure and made green punch for dinner (there were other healthier things, too) which turned out to be the highlight of the kids’ day (it even beat playing barefoot in the dirt!)….so maybe next year I need to drum up some more excitement for this holiday.  But we’re not even Irish!

Dirt and Flowers

School is finished, lunch is eaten, instruments practiced….and now it is time for playing in the dirt.  Wendy is zipping through The Littles books again (it’s been a few years since her last obsession with them).  Now all three kids are out in the dirt pile (where the sand box WILL be but right now it’s just exposed dirt) building “Snippet Homes” in the ground.  You don’t know the Snippets?  Why, they are ground tinies, of course….they live in a rabbit hole under the roots of a maple tree.  And the hope is, I think, that they’ll move in to our own backyard. 

My mom sent me flowers yesterday.  It was such a nice suprise….in honor of Spring coming and that our life has been so crazy these last few months.  Fresh tulips arriving at dinnertime is lovely.  They will arrive in the neighborhood soon (and maybe in our own yard….this first Spring in our new house will be fun as we’ll get to witness the unveiling, little by little, of “our” flowers and trees that we don’t know a lot about yet).  So far, it’s just crocuses.  And I LOVE crocuses because they bring it all in. 

This morning was one of the first that we could take an early morning walk.  And they are so necessary!  We are having major Spring Fever this week and a good ol’ before breakfast walk/bike/scooter/jog at least helps to relieve the crabbiness a bit.  It’s weeks like these that I wonder to myself “why don’t I just send the kids to school?”.

Watercolor Class

We do most of our schooling in the Charlotte Mason-style now.  It’s something I stumbled upon in my googling frenzy quest for ways to make our homeschool work for us a few years back.  At first the thing that got me was the nature journaling and the encouragment to be outside as much as possible.  The book Wild Days by Karen Rackliffe is, in the homeschooling world, one of the nature journaling references that many return to again and again for inspiration.  And we are lucky enough to live near-enough to her to have invited her to give our homeschooling group lessons in watercolor.  Needless to say I was sooooooo excited about this prospect and it turned out so inspirational.  Here they are working on landscapes:

A New Room and Fairies (of course)

We have a lot of painting projects planned for our new house.  The first room we tackled was Wendy’s.  Scott mudded the walls and ceilings.  Then he sanded everything.  We just don’t like texture.  It was a big job……sigh.  Then I painted.  Wendy chose a color called Niagra Falls that her good friend’s room is painted.  Now they match.  It is a lovely light blue color–Wendy’s favorite.  White ceilings—sloped.  I found a white canopy on Craig’s List ($15!!!!!) to go over her bed.  Scott put up new baseboard and new window trim.  Wendy describes her new paradise as “being up in the sky….like a fairy”.  And how perfect that her favorite cousin, Elizabeth, gave her a beautiful, self-made fairy painting this past summer to put on her wall!

And here’s a view from the doorway….though she’s obsessed with sewing and knitting right now so her floor is never this clean for all the scraps of fabric and yarn.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for the beautiful painting!

Ski Day

A few weeks ago we took off one sunny afternoon for our local cross country ski and snowshoe place.  It was a glorious day!  Wendy skiied and John and I snowshoed.  Michael rode in the ergo pack on my back. 

We found such treasures!  A birds’ nest!

And a fairy house!

Wendy has been downhill skiing a few times and tried cross country last year.  She picked it right up and was off.

John, who tried snowshoeing last year in a blizzard and lasted all of five minutes got the hang of it this time around.  He and I followed Wendy at a slightly slower rate.

We took our time, stopped now and then for discoveries, took a break to do an avalanche test like the one they watched on Popular Mechanics for Kids (their favorite video series), dreamt about splashing in the creek we were skimming along beside,

and just as the whining and exhaustion began we spied this off in the distance for a bit of last-leg motivation:

Young at Heart

Oh, please see this movie/documentary.  Here’s a tiny clip but you can’t get the big picture without watching.  I cried through much of it.  AND it’s set in Northampton, MA….my stomping ground for a year….lovely place.

Jumping, Dancing, and Schlepping

How to exercise?  It’s the biggest question for me at this point in my life.  I used to be a runner.  I just can’t drum up enough motivation these days.  Add to that the need to get up at 5 am and run in the dark and cold to have any time to do it…..it’s just not happening.   But a friend of mine has got it right:  jump rope.  She was telling me recently that she jumps for 3 minutes ten times a day.  And so I’ve been doing it for a few days.  Let’s just say I’ll work up to the full 10 times.  So far the most I’ve done is 5.  But I can feel my arm muscles waking up a bit….and my calves are actually sore!  And I can do it while the kids finish eating lunch….or sit at the counter making more chinese lanterns (which we did in History Club yesterday and they spent a good chunk of today doing more and more and more….)….or playing in the backyard…..or bickering over playing with legos….you get the point.

Another fun thing that most people may not actually count as excerise but that I, in my semi-pathetic state DO COUNT:  dancing.  Wildly with the kids in our big front living room that has no furniture but the piano, a big cushy carpet, and the stereo equipment.  Celtic Fiddle—a great energy burst!  Jessica Harper–just plain fun.  Today was Tchaikovsky 4th—-Michael was even humming it later!  There are huge benefits to having a large room that you can’t afford to furnish yet.

And let’s not forget schlepping the chubby two-year-old,  a dead-weight in snowsuit and boots, up the hill over and over and over because he decided to love sledding today.  It was exhausting but, hey!  I’m not complaining.  It beats jogging in the dark anyday.

Sun!

Today was one of those winter days that make winter a fabulous season.  After lunch we hit the sledding hill for a bit. 

As most everyone else was still in school we had the place to ourselves.  Michael has not liked sledding yet this winter until today.  Here he is taking a run with Mama:

Wendy had some terrifically fast runs.  As you look at this photo you have to also hear the high-pitched scream of glee that accompanied each twirl down the hill:

John also had a first today (like his brother) in that he went down by himself.  Always before he’s gone down with a grownup.  He was delighted with himself until he got so hot and exhausted that he just lay down on the snow and started eating it.

It’s been a dreary, cold winter so far.  But the beauty of this place is that when the sun comes out—heaven!  The jackets come off, the grass starts to peep up in the backyard, and I can almost imagine myself digging in the dirt getting ready to plant some seeds.  Almost……

Overheard

John:  “Could you eat the whole world?”

Wendy:  “Well, you’d get really fat….and you’d be eating dirt.”

John:  “Yeah….and bugs and worms…..”

Mathematics and Other Confusions Overheard

 Conversation at the train table:

Boy A (age 4)  “M, what’s 6 plus 6?”

Boy M (age 4) “Three!”

Boy A  “No, of course not!”

Boy M “……D!….”

Boy A “No, that’s d…d….d….(making the d sound)……Twelve! (pronounced “chelve”)”

Boy M “Chelve???????”

Boy A  ”Twelve!” (pronounced ‘chelve’ again, of course)

(slight pause….obvious confusion—thinking ‘what is chelve? what is he talking about? what the heck is ‘chelve’?'….some banging…..a younger brother (age 2) comes onto the scene….)

Boy M ”Hey!  Don’t take that!  (even louder now) Don’t take that!   AAAAHHHHHHHH”.

Cooks Illustrated (our version)

We’re still on the kids-cooking-thing.  They are obsessed.   They made dinner almost-all-by-themselves the other night! 

Wendy took care of the grilled cheese sandwiches (ok, they chose the menu, too….but when someone offers to cook dinner for one, one should not complain):

John, being way into knives, made the salad (luckily, they are all way into salad, too…..at one point recently claiming that it was the-best-food-ever):

Michael was on-hand to make playdoh treats:

While he waited to do the all important job of tossing the salad:

It was delicious—both the food and the pride the kiddos took in doing what I’m sure they see as “an adult job”. 

Oh, and Heidi, thank you so much for the loan…..Wendy made fabulous Ooh-La-La French Toast yesterday morning.  Ahhhh….what more could I ask for—breakfast and dinner catered by a 7 year old!  Heaven.

Kids Cooking

My kids all love to cook.  I love this photo of Scott’s birthday pie earlier this week…complete with chubby, “helping”, blueberry-filling-slicked hand.  That’s how most endeavors in the kitchen usually end around here:  at least one child gleefully covered in some sort of yumminess. 

In our house cooking actually has two categories:  ‘baking with Mama’ and ‘making concoctions’.  I think they like category two much more.  It consists of asking me for any available ingredients (aka:  anything that I have enough of and that is cheap enough to part with in large quantities without a promised outcome….in other words, maple syrup is never a concoction ingredient and salt always is).  Often these concoctions (which always do get baked, by the way) are too quirky smelling or looking to actually try (though I suspectthat Wendy does try them all) but a few have been suprisingly tasty.   My kids are constantly begging to make concoctions and while I always want to say yes to such creative endeavors I must admit that I’m probably 50/50 on acquiescing.  

This said, I was very charmed by this story of 5-year-old Chef Julian:

http://www.oregonlive.com:80/portland/index.ssf/2008/12/post_2.html

And on that order let me share my daughter’s new project of learning to cook (”like you, Mama!”) complete with recipe cards:

These are Days

I’ve loved this song since high school when I used to speed along the dirt backroads of Vermont with this song blasting away.  It made me feel powerful and immensely happy.  It still does.   It’s my theme-song, I guess.  And now that I’m a mom it speaks to me in totally different ways then it did to my 18-year-old self.   May it speak to you—-These are days to remember….that you, are blessed and lucky.  Happy New Year, Friends.

Handmade Christmas

I didn’t make anything handmade this Christmas…not even the traditional matching flannel pj bottoms to be opened Christmas Eve that I usually do.  I did buy the flannel…..however, it is still sitting in a bag.  My sister, though, went all-out.  I wouldn’t be suprised to hear that she made every gift she gave this year.  She just got a new sewing machine and apparently spent the whole Fall crazily creating amazing gifts…like the nature collecting bags she gave my three kids—-complete with pockets inside and out and fabric tailored (get it….tailored?) to their personalities and interests.  We tried them out today:

Bright green for John—this is HIS color!

Dragonflies for Wendy…and these bags are just perfectly kid-sized!

Kitties for Michael….who insists on carrying “my bag”

on his shoulder just like “the kids”. 

Today was our first day back at “school” and we topped off the morning with a freezing nature walk.  We spent the time noticing colors in our white and icy world.  Leaves are all brown, of course,  but I was suprised at the variety we found near our house:  blue hemlock berries, bright red bird-berries, the shaded hues of green peeking up through and around the snowy-ness.   We just went round the block and then scuttled our freezing noses back inside.  Then sat down with watercolors and our nature notebooks (I handmade these!  out of heavy watercolor paper cut in half and then bound at the copystore—they fit perfectly in the bags, along with brushes, watercolors, and tiny jars of water…..when the weather gets warmer, of course) for a bit of painting before lunch.  Michael stickered the page and then decorated with paint and John spent the time trying to paste his collected brown leaf onto the page with brilliant blue color.  Wendy attempted details of lots of treasures:

Thank you, Wildbirds, for the bags!

Surroundings

We’ve had quite a bit of change around here lately.  In November we moved to a new house and spent the time between then and now getting moved in.  I think I won’t really feel absolutely IN for some time yet but we are functioning and each day sees a bit more living and a bit less unpacking.  And yesterday we moved church digs.  Our ward was moved to the lovely old-but-renovated chapel down the street from us.  It has rich history, stained glass windows (unheard of in an LDS chapel!), frescos on the walls, sunlight streaming into the windows.  It was a strange but altogether lovely Sunday yesterday. 

It’s got me to thinking about surroundings and how they can really affect us, even unexpectedly.  The new church yesterday, the stained glass, the streaming sun, the more compact classrooms—it all made for a beautiful sense of peace.  People kept commenting that “the church is the same no matter how nice or how simple the building” and while I believe this…..wow, stained glass can help a lot! 
And the house.  We had a difficult Fall.  We were sick and stressed and then we closed and moved in total chaos (I was sick that weekend, too) and then more sickness and busy-ness and stress and the holidays were rushed and more sickness.  During those first months I often wondered if we’d made a huge mistake.  Don’t get me wrong:  the house is perfect for us.  Not perfect (yet!) but for us:  yes.  But my mood and energy were off.  And I had to wonder:  is it the surroundings that are affecting me this way?  Is there something about this house that is going to pull me under?  I’m finally beginning to see that it’s not so much the house but the other factors that have gone with it—sick, busy, tired, stressed, rushed, bad weather, etc.

And then I think about my focus for 2009:  to be calmer and more patient with the kids.  To make sure my actions and voice and words reflect the love I feel for them and not that I may be busy or anxious or tired. 

“If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy”. 

Because I am a large part of my children’s “house”, of their surroundings.  I need to make sure I’m more like a stained glass window with sun streaming in it then a foggy, rain-splattered one.

Resolute

I usually never stay up to see the ball drop, or to welcome the New Year with fireworks or screaming or the Auld Lang Syne kiss.  My perfect idea of a New Year’s Eve is to watch a movie and eat some popcorn and go to sleep well before the hour strikes midnight.  This year was no exception.  Scott informed me that there were bursts all over the neighborhood as midnight came and that I flickered awake for a second.  Call me simple.  Or exhausted.   Or both, I guess.

And while I’m usually not about watching the year go out with a bang…..I do love this time of year where we get to look back over the highlights of the year gone by and look ahead to plans for the new one.  Laura makes a good point about why NOT to make resolutions because we should think of every moment as a chance to resolutely go forward with an idea.  But call it the blank-book-lover in me that I do LOVE a good list of resolutions…..or, rather, that feeling of sitting before the blank page of the new year with space open before me to scheme and plan.  And I don’t have too many quibbles with the reality that some resolutions don’t stick.  I like to make a good healthy list.  And then forge ahead with the sure feeling that at least most of them will be accomplished in some form or the other.  It’s that “shoot for the stars and you’ll fly farther than you would otherwise have flown” concept.  That addage about education that if we teach to the highest common denominator in a classroom and expect much from the students then everyone will learn more than if just mediocrity was expected.  I LIKE having high expectations of the new year. 

My whole list of schemed resolutions will not appear here….they are scribbled old-fashioned-style (the one I like best!) in my notebook.  But a few just for the sharing:

• return to writing—blog more, journal more, encourage my poetic voice again, work on some children’s book idea—shoot for a daily dose of filling the page
• eat just a little bit of chocolate every day (italics are the resolution!)
• play more with my kids—find my child-energy again
• stay off the computer during the day
• early to bed, early to rise
• sew more
• declutter
• patience, patience, patience, patience, patience

Holiday

The week after Christmas.  It’s such a lovely time of playing……

And reading….

And then there’s the eating and generally doing nothing much which this week has led to some amazing sledding and skiing and organizing and sleeping.  Add to that grandparents visiting and new playthings and no workdays for Papa…..this is one of the most blissful weeks of the year.  A fabulous ending, indeed, to old 2008.

A Blogging Vacation

Which is not really going to be a vacation because it will include moving a lot of really heavy boxes, doing a lot of cleaning, packing and then unpacking, repainting, etc, etc.  You get the drift.  I know I haven’t been here a lot lately because we’ve had a really stressful and busy month filled with illness and lots of paperwork and making phone calls too numerous to mention between realtor-lender-title company.  But here is the good news:

We’re moving!  The papers are signed, it funds this morning, the move begins now with the brunt of the work being on Saturday.  We are sooooo excited (except that we’re exhausted and still feeling under the weather).  Ah, this month has been all about the extremes.

For those of you who know it, change that 141 to 159.  Everything else stays the same.  Yes, we’re moving right-next-door.

I’ll be back in a week or two with new-house photos and hopefully renewed energy.  Now it’s off to scrounge up some more boxes….

“There is no escaping the consequences of our vote”

I am not going to talk personally on this here.  But this post today brought it all into perspective.  There is no perfect answer.  But we are held responsible for making a choice.  May we make a good one…

More Random Things about me that you may or may not be interested in knowing:

• I voted early. 
• I love yoga—ashtanga to be precise—though it’s been too long since I practiced regularly.
• We will most probably (knock on wood) be living in a different house a week from now.
• I am a strange mix of old-fashioned and, well….not.
• Our life is chaotic lately, hence the lack of posting.  I think it will return to normal soon.
• I hope.
• We’ve been having fun with the chickenpox for the past three weeks.
• Almost every single book that we own (which is quite a few) is in a box.  Which really cramps my style.
• I have no will-power when it comes to Halloween candy.
• Halloween is one of my least-favorite holidays.  And my husband’s favorite.
• I do love the combination of leaves crunching underfoot and the smell of burning pumpkin wafting through the air.  And we had a lovely time trick-or-treating with friends in the neighborhood.
• I just read Mothering magazine’s latest issue in one sitting.

Hey, does anyone want to do The Well-Educated Mind’s reading lists with me?  I think I’ll start with the History list which means Herodotus is up first.  But I’m open to switching that….

My Loves, let’s take a walk. Just us in the cool of the evening.

 

 

 

 

 

I followed a link today to some vintage sesame street skits.  You know how I mentioned a few posts ago that Sesame Street–taken over by Elmo’s World—is such a disappointment to me?  Well, these skits brought back all the good times.  I must comment that my television viewing as a child was VERY LIMITED.  It was basically Sesame Street and Little House on the Prairie.  Here are a few of my favorites, for your viewing pleasure.  May they take you back in time as they did me.

Remember This

**Michael’s little not-quite-two-year-old voice calling out from his crib at bedtime in answer to my “I love you!”

“Love you!”

**John’s statement at lunch yesterday:  “Mama, you cool!  I lub you!  You better than Matthew (his best friend).”

**Wendy’s declaration at dinner tonight:  “Salad is the best food ever!”  Scott tried to entice her to change her mind.  What about J-Dawgs?  “No, Salad”.  What about Mama’s fresh-baked bread?  “No, Salad”. 

I love my kids!

Nie Nie

To read about what’s happening to Nie Nie and her family is difficult.  To read her words is inspiring.  Do both!  Can you help?

http://www.nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/

Childhood

I stopped short today in the driveway.  It was a scene from my own childhood just staring me in the face.  Different driveways:  mine was dirt and long, uphill and made a great place for sledding.  Hers is cracked cement and sunny, downhill and good for coasting.  Different bikes:  mine had a banana seat and was blue.  Hers is purplish pink and decorated in true Walmart style with princesses (hey, it could be worse…).  But the idea is the same:  my childhood self called it “playing factory”—spinning the wheels, letting the spokes tickle my fingers as they spun, sending dirt through the works, cleaning and polishing.  I’ll have to ask her what her game is called.

Self-Portrait by John

I was just talking to my sister this afternoon.  She asked if it was a mistake that she lets her 2 1/2 year old daughter use her nice camera….which means that whenever the camera comes out her daughter wants to take photos.   I agreed—no.  But we also agreed that sometimes the choices that make us good parents—letting our children experience independence and creativity in a safe and supportive environment—sometimes make life a big pain.   Because we must admit that sometimes it is nice to just be able to take photos without having to supervise a two-year-old’s attempts. 

Sometimes my kids get to use the camera.  Sometimes not.  If I never let them use it, I’d never have treasures like this close-up of John’s nostril.  I know I’ll look fondly at this photo sometime far in the future….when he and his nostrils are all grown up and I miss getting to wipe his nose and snuggle his tow-headed tangles under my chin.

The Perfect Light

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Aftermath

My good friend Laura posted a great reality-check on her blog today.  I thought I’d air some reality of my own.  Since my house just came off the market (yahoo!) I’ve dropped the ball (in relief) with the whole neatness-is-crucial-at-all-times thing.  It is pretty apparent:  my house looks like a bomb just went off:

I call this series of photos 12:30 pm.  Or  What my house really looks like after a morning of homeschooling.

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Autumn

When I was young I lived in Vermont.  Autumn meant the New England brilliance of leaves changing, the winter chill coming on early, beginning to see the thin ice cover on the puddles in the morning while waiting for the bus—cracking it beneath my feet, experimenting with how much pressure it took, apple-picking (macintoshes!  oh, I miss macs!), the darkness creeping in around the day so mornings we’d wake up in the dark….and afternoons would start to be crowded with it.  Lots of smell memories—loamy smells of gardens and apples rotting and getting ready for the winter, crisp smells of dry leaves crunching underfoot. 

Here, Autumn isn’t quite so chilly.  Though we did get snow on the tops of the mountains this weekend and the view combined with crisp, sunny days are just so lovely lately.  Around here, it’s still warm enough once our strong sun comes out to play barefoot in the backyard, wear shorts to the playground, stomp in puddles without having to instantly retreat inside.  But the mornings are chilly and we’ve already enjoyed our first rounds of hot cocoa after a few particularly early walks. 

Our red delicious apples made a nice apple sauce last week….though I still wish for my neighbor’s golden delicious trees that are sweet and tasty enough not to need added sugar.  They also make excellent “boy hideouts”.

And the trampoline is littered now with fallen leaves…but that just adds to the fun!

The air feels particularly ripe for flight….

Why I Love Super Why!

We don’t watch a ton of tv around here but the kids usually watch something PBSy while I’m showering.  Lately it’s been Super Why.  Do you know why I love Super Why? 

Well, first I must preface by saying that I grew up on Sesame Street.  TV was really restricted in my childhood house but Sesame Street was not.  It was really good back then.  Not so much now.  Now that it’s been heisted by Elmo and His World—-ugh.  I have just one word:  obnoxious. 

Super Why, though….I thank it for getting my just-turned-four-year-old who loves to be read to but has shown no interest in learning letters for getting the interest going.  And my not-quite-two year old answers the characters on the show.  And when we stumble upon  a chalked message at the playground he spends quite a bit of time standing over it saying “O….I…..E…..O”. 

So, thank you Whyatt aka Super Why, and Princess Presto, Alpha Pig and Wonder Red.

Guys and Dolls

 I just bought John a doll for his 4th birthday.  I had it made by Christina at Bamboletta.  And to link where links are due, I found Bamboletta on SouleMama’s amazing blog. 

We were worried that John wouldn’t attach to a doll.  The boys got these for Christmas and they were promptly thrown to the bottom of the (very large) stuffed-animal bin.  Wendy has been wild about dolls for years (she prefers the American Girl dolls) and John and Michael play with her from time to time. 

But something kept nagging at me that John needed a boy doll.  He just did. 

The box arrived on the day of his birthday.  He and I walked to the post office with the slip and stood in line, anticipating.  He handed the slip to the postal worker and the box was brought out.  We tore into it in the lobby.  As soon as the doll was in sight, John grabbed him up and gave him a hug.  Then we strolled home.  Rounding the corner into our backyard he was met with squeals of delight not just from his sister but from the three neighbor girl-friends who were playing there.  That cemented the deal.  The doll was cool.  The doll had found it’s place.  The doll was HIS. 

 His name is Max.  He looks a lot like John.  He sleeps in John’s bed.  His clothes get changed.  He gets snuggled in front of PBS and comes in the car with us.  The little dolls from Christmas have been dug out of the bin for Michael.  Their names (yes!  they have names now!) are baby Max and baby Jack.   They sleep in Michael’s bed and get lugged around, too. 

Please excuse the dated-ness of this video.  I remember it fondly from childhood and it’s been in my head all month, appropriately. 

Vicarious Life

In the “old days” when I was a student at Juilliard we would get quite a bit of entertainment each Saturday as “pre-college” was in session.  Small children dressed to the nines most often followed by hovering-stage-parent-also-dressed-to-the-nines-with-look-of-extreme-worry-on-her-face (yes, this is the technical term…or if you’re Emily you can just say “Mrs. Park”).  It would be entertaining in its own way, but also was sad or pathetic or annoying—depending on the situation.  These mothers—always mothers!—were obviously wanting the best for their children and there’s no bashing that.  But they were sooooo attentive and sooooo hovering that it was obvious to all around them that what was really happening was that they were vicariously living the Juilliard experience through their children (and believe me, this is not an experience I would wish on a 19-year-old, much less a child…so there is much wrong here at many levels). 

That said, on to my next topic:  my husband (who actually sometimes reads my blog!) is enthralled with this whole mommy-blog thing that I’ve become a part of.  He asks me, over and over, what is it that makes all these moms do it.  He’s not being disparaging.   He’s a really nice guy.  But he’s definitely curious.  And I’ve thought about it a bit and here’s my answer:  We are living vicariously.   And it’s not in a sad, often-negative way like those pre-college days….no, it is liberating!  It is a chance to experience do-it-all-supermom-hood without being a supermom (which, we all know, is an impossible feat).  How else could I experience so much in one day and still be sane and enjoy my life?

I can’t spend time canning lately because my kitchen has to be spotless-at-all-times for the realtor.  But I can experience it here.

I did get to go on a big trip this summer…but not to Europe!  Not to worry, Mirjam did!

I live in a very red state….but, thank goodness for like-minded (real-life!) friends.

I wish I lived closer to my sister and my parents so we could have dinner together any-old-time.  I can’t.  But I can “live it” here.  Yum-Yum!

I’ve always wanted to learn how to embroider (is this a word?) really well.  And to teach my daughter.  She knows a bit.  So do I.  But I’d like to do more.  I do more vicariously at Jen’s house.

Since we homeschool we miss that first-day-of-school thing….the bus part, anyway.  But that’s ok!  Andi helped me through it!

Are you getting the picture?  And these are only a fraction of the blogs I have stored on google reader! 

It’s a great life we lead, don’t you all agree?

Poetry

As we are loosely following the Ambleside Online outline for Year 2, we have been studying the poetry of Walter de la Mare.  I love poetry.  But I must say that (so far) I’ve not fallen in love with this poet.  Many of his poem’s titles get me excited but then I’m a bit disappointed….I find that the really enjoyable poems (see below) are actually few and far between…but we’re persisting.

This week’s poem (used for copywork and for memorization) has been Wild are the Waves.

Wild are the waves when the wind blows;

But fishes in the deep

Live in a world of waters,

Still as sleep.

Wild are the skies when Winter

Roars at the doors of Spring;

But when his lamentations lulled

Then sweet birds sing.

Wendy has been inspired by this poem to write her own book of poetry and even had a long discussion with a friend in the car earlier this week about sending in poetry for publication (readers:  any ideas where children can send in poems that have a chance of seeing print?).  Here is her version:

Wild are the waves. 

Waves ride on the tide.

Dolphins dive, seals bark

and waves ride on the tide.

The 26th Floor

Scroll down a few posts to the one where Wendy is sitting on a pretty blanket at the park.  You know, that blanket has lots of memories.  It is our keep-in-the-car-to-pull-out-any-old-time blanket.  It has seen lots of picnics.  And campouts.  And stargazing. 

The first time I saw it it was in a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop near St. Marks Place in NYC.  Scott and I were on our maybe-third date.  We’d both had horrible days—stressful, NYC, music conservatory, a-lot-is-expected-and-we-feel-like-we’re-not-living-up kinds of days.  We went down to the Little India block.  We sat in a dark restaurant and ate Indian food and spilled ours problems to each other.  We totally bonded.   And then we walked, headed for the subway that would take us uptown—it would let me out at 72nd Street and him at 125th.  We saw the shop.  One of those shops where there are items seemingly carefully collected from all over the world and brought here just for you.  And there was the blanket.  And it was beautiful.  I admired it.  We left. 

Later, he went back and bought it for me.  Is that romantic or what? 

And so it has memories of picnics and outings and stargazing.  But it also has memories of days-past.  Of falling in love with my now-husband.  And falling in love in New York City is so fabulous!  I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s just that falling in love anytime takes the cake.  But a first-kiss on the balcony of the 26th floor….good memories.

Magnanimous News (in our house, anyway)

Yes, I have some news.  It may not seem like news to anyone else but my husband and I.  It may even shock some people!  But it has me walking on air today:  my “baby” slept through the night for the first time! 

Ok, now for the disclaimer.  To understand why this is such a biggie, just realize that the “baby” will be TWO in November.  Also, understand that my other two children didn’t sleep through the night until well into their third years (ok, so my daughter was even LATER…but she’s 7 now and sleeps beautifully, thank you very much).  So, do you get the magnitude of what I’m saying?  What I’m really saying is that I slept through the night for the first time in SEVEN YEARS. 

Wow.

Women Friends

I love having friends.  But there is something sort of anti-social in my nature, too.  To be honest, I just can’t figure it out (I’m soooooo complex, I know!  he he).  But I have had a few conversations recently (ok, some were via the computer…does that count?) that have me thinking about friends in general and socializing and women friends in particular.  By the way, this is NOT a post about my kids’ social lives—this topic of homeschoolers and socialization did come up at our Park Day this week but I can say with no hesitancy that I am not concerned with my kid’s socialization just because we’re homeschooling. 

My own socialization….something to think about.  So, yes….recently I have joined and become a bit (ahem) obsessed with facebook.  So I’ve been in “contact”–quotations go back up to my question “does talking on the computer count for talking?  really?–with a number of friends from my past.  A variety, in fact.  People that I was VERY close to.  People that I considered friends but haven’t thought of, literally, in years.  People that I wasn’t close to at all that still seem to want to be my ‘friend’ as long as it’s over the computer (which may or may not count).  Also a real-life friend (two, actually) blogged about this concept of real-friendness which I think about quite a bit but am not so good at.  Also, we went out lastnight with some other friends (look how popular I’m looking!) and she and I had much great conversation about good women-friends and how they can change your outlook on life (amen to Book Club–even though I cannot get into The Master and Margarita!). 

So, what is my point?  I don’t know.  The kids are clamouring for breakfast and I’ve lost my train of thought.  But friendships.  They are a good thing.  They have the power to restore meaning to our lives.  They have the power to lift us up (or bring us down).  They are worth having, is what I’m saying.  And I’m speaking mostly to that large inner part of me that wants to be anti-social (I’m just so busy, you know!) but knows that what I really need is something quite the opposite.